


April Fools

by Clueingforlooks221B



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, April Fools, Childish Sherlock, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Funny, Happy Ending, Holiday, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mild Angst, angst with happy ending, angsty, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueingforlooks221B/pseuds/Clueingforlooks221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft always pranked Sherlock on April Fools day and this time Sherlock is seeking revenge. Basically Sherlock takes Greg's phone and pretends to be Greg while John hopes that Mycroft has figured out this is all a prank. (SEQUEL IS UP NOW! It's called Revenge)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting the phone

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end :) Enjoy!

Rays of sunlight sliced through the gaps within the white shutters, casting a faint glow on the Detective Inspector huddled over a small wooden desk. Dark bags hung under his brown eyes, the word exhaustion was practically written in between the stress lines on his forehead. A pencil broke bringing the man back to his senses, and he realized that he has let his thoughts drift away again. Running his fingers through his gray hair, he attempted to toss the pencil in the waste bin across his small office but missed. Growling out in frustration, he fished in the top desk drawer and pulled out a blue mechanical pencil. The sound of fast moving shoes slowly drowned out the quiet atmosphere. Pulling a piece of paper off an overwhelming stack of them, he began to fill the sheet out to make himself look professional and efficient. The obnoxious taping of the shoes stopped and was replaced by the grey door being ripped open. A middle aged man with dark curly hair flew in, followed by a short man with graying blonde hair.

The man with curly hair stepped toward the officers desk, extending his hand out. "Lestrade I need to borrow your phone." Lestrade glanced up from his work and immediately stopped what he was doing. "Sherlock don't you ever slow down?" Lestrade rubbed his fingers on his temple. Work had been hard for him lately; they just completed a major case that took days to solve and he was left to fill out all the paperwork. "Sherlock please don't do this!" Sherlock turned to the blonde with a dangerous glint in his eyes, "Nonsense John! It will be hilarious. Besides, Mycroft won't be affected by it, he will figure out it is all a prank before it ends." John glared at Sherlock, "Won't be hurt? Wait, if Mycroft will figure it out then why are you doing it? Sherlock if what you're saying is true, about how Mycroft feels about, you know who," John motioned his blue eyes toward Lestrade, and then back to Sherlock's, "then I think that this prank is a bit not good." Sherlock rolled his eyes again, "Trust me Mycroft will be fine. Any chance to get on Mycrofts nerves is a bonus, and I calculated there is a 33% chance Mycroft won't figure it out. And I need to do this, he's pranked me too many times. Gavin, phone, now." Sherlock slammed his hands on Lestrade's desk, looming over him.

Lestrade stood up from his desk, straightening his posture to look more intimidating. "Now hold on just a second, what is going on? And for the thousandth time it's Greg!" Sherlock flicked his hand, "Gavin Greg same thing. Phone." Lestrade frowned, "Not really. Why?" Sherlock huffed, "I'm pulling a prank on Mycroft and it's going to be brilliant." Lestrade quirked an eyebrow. "And now you're wondering what your phone has to do with it. Mycroft needs to think that he's talking to you. The reason why is classified, phone now." Greg shook his head. "No way! I don't even know what you're going to say!" Sherlock scanned Lestrade's face and grimaced, "Ugh sentiment! You won't get in trouble because Mycroft will find out it was me who was texting him in the end. Gosh John I should've just pick pocketed him this is far too tedious. I still could I suppose, defiantly by April 1st, Lestrades not that hard to steal from." John cheek fully grinned, "You know why you asked." Sherlock smirked, "Yes because if I didn't you would've withheld sex." John's face turned bright red and he looked apologetically toward Greg. Lestrade flinched and dragged his hand hand over his face. "I need a cigarette." Greg mumbled. "Sherlock! Don't you think you could've said because it's the right thing to do." Sherlock smiled, "Oh please John it was obviously implied, I'm sure even Anderson could've figured that one out."

Lestrade dug into his coat pocket, pulling out his phone. "Here just, take it alright. Oh wait a minute! What do I get out of it?" Sherlock slyly grinned, "That's more how I like it. 59 pounds." Greg laughed, "Wow this must be really important to you, ok deal. This won't hurt Mycroft though, right?" Sherlock bitterly laughed and snatched Lestrade's phone. "Please, my brothers nickname is the Iceman. He will be alright, worse has happened to him then what I'm about to do." John sighed, "I sure hope you're right about this Sherlock." Sherlock growled, "He will be fine I'm his brother for Gods sakes! Why do you care so much about how my brother feels?" John smirked, "Jealous?" Earning a glare from Sherlock. "In all seriousness though, I just know how unrequited love feels and it doesn't feel good." Sherlock let out a short laugh and motioned his hand towards Lestrade, "Ha! Unrequited? Please, hardly, he feels the same." John frowned, "Well Mycroft doesn't know that, and this is practically dangling a false promise in his face. It will be giving him hope that will be destroyed. I just don't think-" "John! Mycroft will figure it out trust me, and if he doesn't he will live. Let's start this thing! I need my revenge." Sherlock stepped out of the office with a bounce in his step. "I'm sorry, unrequited love?" Greg stared quizzically at John. "You'll figure it out later." John left and Lestrade slouched down in his chair more confused then ever. He gripped his pencil tightly, staring at the mass amount of papers. Yelling out in aggravation, he placed his head down on his desk. Part of him dreaded giving Sherlock the phone, since he didn't know what the prank was. John had been nervous about how it would all end after all. But another part of him was excited to see how this would all turn out, and this would be a great excuse to see Mycroft again. Besides Mycroft would be smart enough to figure out it's all a prank, right?


	2. Texting Mycroft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John helps Sherlock text Mycroft XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything that's bold is a text

Sherlock sprawled out on the sofa, staring off into space while holding Lestrade's phone. He had been laying there all day in nothing but his blue robe. The phone's curser blinked mockingly at him, and Sherlock kept taping the screen every time it began to darken. Sherlock dug deep into his mind palace, trying to find the appropriate way to start a conversation as Greg to Mycroft. A few minutes, or perhaps hours later, Sherlock felt fingers running through his curls. He immediately relaxed and tilted his head to gain more access to the fingers, he immediately recognized them as John's.

"Having trouble?" John buried his face into Sherlock's hair, breathing in his shampoo. Sherlock exhaled through his nostrils. "Yes I just don't know how to start this. What do I say first? Should I just confess or start out with a simple greeting? John I don't do these... certain types of things well... Just could you, maybe, ugh help me?" John laughed, and walked around to the other side of the sofa. Nudging Sherlock's feet off the cushion, he plopped down and Sherlock rested his feet on John's lap. "You're just fine at it Sherlock. You should just start out with a greeting." Sherlock nodded. "Ok, I'll write hello... Sexy?" John bursted out laughing, receiving a glare from Sherlock. "Hah sorry sorry. Honestly if you write that Mycroft will think Greg is drunk. Lestrade is, well shyer, he wouldn't be that bold with a random text message. Just write hey." Sherlock looked skeptical. "Just hey?" John nodded. "Yes it's perfect he won't suspect a thing." Sherlock typed out **hey** and before he could think about it too hard he pressed send. "So why are you helping all of a sudden? I thought you wanted nothing to do with this?" John shrugged. "I never said-" "Yes but you implied it." John shook his head. "I meant... Well ok I thought about it and you're probably right." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, "Probably?" John rolled his eyes, "Yes Mycroft will figure this all out so I figured what's the harm." Sherlock let out a short sarcastic laugh, "Ha! What's the harm? We are pranking the most dangerous man in London." John smirked and tapped Sherlocks foot. "Yeah but I've got you, and he won't do anything too bad to is since he cares about you."

Sherlock scoffed, and at that moment the phone buzzed in his hand. "What did he say?" John giggled. " **What's Sherlock done this time?** " Sherlock began to snicker. "Gosh I feel like teenage boys prank calling." John giggled louder at the thought. "We can't giggle we have to focus on pranking my brother." Sherlock remained serious for a minute, before giggling with John. "Ok say, **No this has nothing to do with Sherlock, this is about us. I have something serious I need to tell you.** " Sherlock typed out the reply and pressed send. "Wow no questions or hesitations?" John furrowed his eyebrows. "No I trust you, it sounds good and you have more experience in this area." The phone buzzed again and Sherlock read out Mycroft's reply, " **What is it?** " John smiled, "Ok this is easy. Lestrade would probably be straight to the point. So just say-" "I love you?" Sherlock interrupted and began to type that. "What? No! Stop that's too serious. Just say **I really like you... A lot.** " Sherlock grimaced and deleted his response and typed in John's. "Saying this to my brother is just so odd." The phone lit up and Sherlock laughed immediately. "What?" John straightened up a bit to try and look at the phone. " **He asked if Gregory is drunk.** " John giggled again. "Ah of course. Say **no I'm being serious I really like you**." Sherlock was still laughing as he sent the response. "See I was right, this is hilarious." John nodded, "Yeah this is."

The phone buzzed again several seconds later and Sherlock growled as he read the response. "What? What's wrong? Did he figure it out? If so he's impressive." Sherlock shook his head, "No he asked **why**." John frowned, "Wow Mycroft is really not confident in himself." Sherlock stiffened, "Yes I wasn't expecting him to react in this sort of way." Sherlock shuck his head, "How on earth do I respond to this? Saying good things about Mycroft." John nodded, "Ok one time Greg got very drunk and started talking about Mycroft. I don't remember much, other then him looking sexy in his three piece suit and he would love to be the one to dominate Mycroft since Mycroft is usually the one, you know, in charge. I remember also something vaguely about him being jealous of his umbrella..." "John please stop! You're killing me! Here just, take it! You can do this part. You're good with the average cliche sayings. Write something."

Sherlock threw the phone at John and John caught it. "Ok ok." John laughed and typed: ' **Because you're beautiful and I like everything about you. Your strong dominating attitude, and that air around you that just yells of importance. I'm not afraid of you. Your sexy three piece suits that I'd love to rip open and I'd like to just dominate you and make you loose your mind. To be able to not have you worry about keeping some mask up, I want to show you pleasure. I want to be the one who helps you let yourself go. Sorry I may be crossing a line but I can't hold this in anymore. And if this is too much I hope we can at least be friends.'** John hit send and suddenly began to feel guilty. In one glance Sherlock picked up on what John was feeling. "Don't feel guilty John I'm sure Mycroft will reply that he's figured it out." A few minutes later Mycroft replied and Sherlock reached for the phone. John tightened his grasp on it. "I better reply, since I don't think you want to know what I said." Sherlock laid back down and nodded. Mycroft wrote: ' **Wow Gregory that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm not going to be easy though, I have an awful work schedule that calls me at random periods during the day and I'm not good with relationships since I don't have much experience. I don't want to like you because I'm to afraid of the what ifs, but the fear is not as strong as the affection I hold towards you. So I think I trust you and I want to do this, a lot. So yes Gregory, I like you too. No lines crossed, I would love for you to do that, later on ;)'** Johns face paled with every word but then reddened at the end. "Sherlock we need to stop, this has gone to far. Your brother is pouring out emotions here." Sherlock sat up, "No way! We're too far into this to turn back now! I might actually prank him, or who knows he could be pranking us back. Tell him that we should meet on Sunday to go out for, I don't know, dinner or for coffee." John sighed, knowing there was no winning against Sherlock. Besides Sherlock could be right Mycroft could be pranking them back. John read out loud while typing: " **I'd love to see you. How about on Sunday, we can go out for coffee or maybe dinner?** " The phone buzzed immediately and Mycroft replied, " **Sounds good I'll send a car for you and we can go out for dinner. Does 5:30 work for you?** " John read out Mycrofts response and Sherlock jumped off the couch. "Brilliant John! Mycroft will come by and there we can reveal that this was all a prank! Oh this is perfect!" John wrote back, " **Yes I'll see you then I can't wait.** " John secretly hoped that Mycroft had figured out that this was all a prank, after all, they set the date for April 1st.


	3. Mycroft's reactions to the texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Mycroft reacts to the texts, and Anthea ships them <3 XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive feedback so far! Please let me know how you're liking it! :)
> 
> The texts are in bold.

Thank you so much for all the positive feedback so far! This chapter is about Mycroft receiving the text and his emotions toward it all. Enjoy! :) (Text messages are in bold)

* * *

 

Mycroft growled as he slouched into the leather seat of his limo. "How was the Russia conference?" Anthea asked as she typed into her phone, a knowing smile on her face. "Extremely tedious as usual." Mycroft sighed and gazed out the window as the scenery whipped by, turning into a blur of green and gray. Mycroft felt a buzz in his trouser pocket, and pulled out his phone. "I swear if this is Russia." He mumbled. ' **Hey** ' was all the text said, sent by the Detective Inspector. Mycroft's grip tightened on his umbrella, Sherlock had obviously done something irritating again. Clenching his teeth together, Mycroft swiftly replied, ' **What's Sherlock done this time?** ' "Russia again, sir?" Anthea still stared at her phone, but her ears were focused on Mycroft. "No, Sherlock." Anthea smirked, "Even worse." A grin tugged at the corner of Mycroft's mouth, but he refused to let it show. He had always hated his smile. He would never be as respected as he was today if he allowed his face to split ridiculously, his nose to wrinkle, or his child-like giggles to be released.

Mycroft's phone buzzed, this time in his hand, and he read the next incoming text message. ' **No this has nothing to do with Sherlock, this is about us. I have something serious I need to tell you.'** Mycroft's eyebrows wrinkled at this. "No, actually this has nothing to do with Sherlock." Mycroft replied, 'What is it?' The car began to slow down, until it finally rolled to a smooth stop. "Oh the good old Detective Inspector is hitting you up, whatever for?" Anthea grinned. "I really don't know." Getting out of the car, Mycroft straightened his posture and began to walk into the building. Anthea followed directly behind him with a smirk on her face.

Mycroft almost jumped out of his suit when he got Greg's reply, ' **I really like you... A lot**.' Mycroft's fingers curled in and out, trying to hold back the excitement fighting to escape. His blood siphoned north, rushing and sizzling through his veins as it spread across his face, filling it with heat. Mycroft's hand shook as he pressed the elevator button, and he coughed to try and cover the blush on his face. "The elevator is here, sir." Anthea's humor filled voice brought Mycroft out of his thoughts. "Yes, of course." Pressing the number seven, this time with his hand in more control, the elevator began to elevate along with Mycroft's heart beats. But soon, cold biting panic began to prickle along his skin. What if this was all some joke? Or what if Gregory was drunk? Mycroft glanced at the time on his phone. It was seven pm, so being drunk was a possibility. So Mycroft wrote back his suspicions, ' **Gregory are you drunk?** ' "So desk work for the rest of the night?" Anthea walked out of the elevator, and a stunned Mycroft slowly followed. Mycroft's phone buzzed again, and he quickly nodded toward Anthea. ' **No I'm being serious I really like you.** ' Lestrade replied, which made Mycroft's heart sky rocket.

Mycroft still couldn't help but feel doubtful. Why would anyone ever like him? He's overweight, ugly, and his nickname is the iceman! Why would anyone ever be interested, especially someone as wonderful as Gregory, in him? Mycroft frowned and typed back, ' **Why?** ' Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he walked toward his office. Mycroft stopped at his office door, and pulled out his key to unlock the knob. Stepping inside his cold office, he took off his jacket and rested his umbrella besides the door. Switching on the light, he walked over to his mini fridge to retrieve some much needed scotch. He would smoke, but he doesn't like to do that indoors. "Do you require me for anything else, sir?" Anthea stood in front of the door, her phone held in her hand but her hand was down to her side. "No, no." Mycroft whisked his hand, but suddenly felt his phone vibrate again. "Actually, yes. Shut the door behind you please." Mycroft sat down in his chair, bracing himself for the incoming text message.

Retrieving his phone, the text read, ' **Because you're beautiful and I like everything about you. Your strong dominating attitude, and that air around you that just yells of importance. I'm not afraid of you. Your sexy three piece suits that I'd love to rip open and I'd like to just dominate you and make you loose your mind. To be able to not have you worry about keeping some mask up, I want to show you pleasure. I want to be the one who helps you let yourself go. Sorry I may be crossing a line but I can't hold this in anymore. And if this is too much I hope we can at least be friends.** ' Mycroft's face burned bright red at the end of the text and butterflies rattled inside of his stomach. Mycroft wasn't sure how to feel, he was ecstatic but at the same time he was afraid to fall deeper in whatever this all was. Anthea shut the door and walked over to the other side of the desk. "What do you conclude from this?" Mycroft gave his phone to Anthea, allowing her to read over the text. Anthea smiled and handed the phone back over to Mycroft, "It sounds like Silver Fox really likes you." Anthea maintained a soft smile, before it split into a grin, and then an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Mycroft felt his face turn crimson, he had forgotten that he set Greg's contact name to that so that if anyone were to ever get his phone Gregory's identity wouldn't be revealed. That was Mycroft's excuse for it anyways, which Anthea wasn't buying at all.

"What should I say?" Mycroft placed his fingers on his temple, he began to feel a headache coming on. "Well, do you like him?" Anthea sat down across from him, her perfect posture remaining. "Yes. But I'm afraid too. I don't want this to go wrong. What if one day he doesn't like me and leaves? Besides I'm far too busy for a relationship. And-" Anthea held her hand up, silencing him. "Mycroft you need to do what will make you happy, and stop worry about all the what ifs. Be honest because that's the best thing to do when starting or already in a relationship. Let him know your nervous and what you are afraid of. It's all about sharing your feelings with each other. Besides he has a busy work schedule too, and there will always be some amount of time to see each other. You'll just have to compromise. Mycroft Holmes I don't want to see you drop this amazing opportunity because you're too scared! I've seen the way you look at him, and from these texts he obviously feels the same, so reply!" Mycroft was stunned and nodded. He began to type his response, ' **Wow Gregory that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm not going to be easy though, I have an awful work schedule that calls me at random periods during the day and I'm not good with relationships since I don't have much experience. I don't want to like you because I'm to afraid of the what ifs, but the fear is not as strong as the affection I hold towards you. So I think I trust you and I want to do this, a lot. So yes Gregory, I like you too.** ' "How is this?" Mycroft showed the screen to Anthea, and Anthea took the phone and began to type at the end, ' **No lines crossed, I would love for you to do that, later on ;)** ' Then she handed the phone over to Mycroft smirking. Mycroft began to feel his face get red again, but he pressed send which shocked Anthea. "Was that ok?" Mycroft asked nervously when he saw her stunned expression. Anthea laughed, "Yes."

Mycroft's phone vibrated and Mycroft read the text aloud, **"I'd love to see you. How about on Sunday, we can go out for coffee or maybe dinner?** " Anthea whipped out her phone to check Mycroft's schedule. "You're available at 5pm, I can clear your schedule for the rest of the evening." Mycroft shyly smiled, "Perfect." Mycroft wrote back, ' **Sounds good I'll send a car for you and we can go out for dinner. Does 5:30 work for you?** ' Gregory wrote back immediately, ' **Yes I'll see you then I can't wait** ' "I guess it's a date." Mycroft put a hand in front of his smile to hide it while Anthea squealed in delight. Then Mycroft felt panic clawing up his throat. "What should I wear? Where should we go?" Anthea smiled and stood up, straightening out her skirt, "Don't worry sir, I'll help you." Mycroft let out a breath of relief, where would he be without Anthea? "Thank you, dear."


	4. Waiting For Mycroft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade anxiously waits for Mycroft while Sally keeps him company for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will defiantly be Mycroft being pranked so don't worry that part is coming! XD Thank you so much for reading this, enjoy!

Lestrade bounced his leg up and down, glancing at the clock every second he could. Paperwork surrounded him, but none if it had been touched. Today was the day that Sherlock would pull the prank. Greg had been anxious all week about what the prank was going to be. All Sherlock would say was that it would be funny; while John admitted to be nervous and mumbled something about thinking Sherlock had taken things too far. Lestrade figured that if the prank would severely hurt Mycroft in anyway, John would stop Sherlock from doing it. Since John came along, Sherlock's began to act a little more human.

When Lestrade wasn't looking at the clock, he was drifting off into scenarios. What if Sherlock would do something simple, to throw Mycroft off? Greg imagined Mycroft's face covered in pie. If any got on his suit, he would defiantly kill Sherlock. Lestrade laughed at the thought of a Mycroft with pie on his face and suit chasing Sherlock around his office. But Greg had a feeling that the prank would be something more than that, something absolutely clever. Sally came by to deliver coffee, and gave an odd look at her boss who just sat in his chair smiling. Her mouth thinned when she noticed that none of the paperwork had been touched. But then, she smirked, and asked, "What's got you distracted? Did you start dating?" Lestrade snapped out of his daydream, and shook his head. Grabbing the hot coffee off his desk, he took a long sip. The liquid spread heat all throughout his body. Setting the white cup down again he watched the steam rise and expand, sending a coffee aroma around his office. He hadn't dated since the horrible divorce with his wife. Sure he was interested in someone, but he knew that the man was way out of his league. Looking up at Sally, he frowned, "No, just thinking." Sally rested her back against the detective inspector's desk, and took a long gulp of her coffee. Keeping the cup in her hand, she prompted him on, "About?" Greg gave up and decided to tell her. "Mr. Holmes is coming in today." Sally quirked a manicured eyebrow, "The freaks brother?" Lestrade rolled his eyes, "Yes, Sherlock's brother, Mycroft." He gave a goofy grin at the end, and Sally caught on immediately. 

Sally clutched her lower abdomen and tears rained down her eyes as silent laughter escaped her. Her body shook and she couldn't stop laughing. Greg sighed, and took another sip of his coffee. When she finally collected herself, she wiped her face. She noticed the mascara on her fingers, and cursed. Her vision became clear again, and when she caught the sight of Lestrade's hurt filled brown eyes, guilt began to course through her veins. "Oh no sir don't take my laughter as a bad thing. I just think it's funny because I wouldn't have ever thought of you two together." Lestrade slouched in his chair a little more, and began to play with the mugs handle on his cup. "Yeah, who would." Resting her coffee cup besides Lestrade's, Sally sat down across from Lestrade. She curled her hands on top of his desk, and stared straight at him. "It'd be good for Mycroft to have you though. Sorta like how John is good for the fre- uhm Sherlock, don't you dare tell them I said that. Mycroft's just so... Uptight and distant. I feel like, that if you two dated, you could help him to be a little more... Human, I guess. I could see you two dating though, I think you two would compliment each other well. Besides, you need to get back out there again! And if Mycroft is going to be the one to make you happy, then I say, go for him." Lestrade grinned, "Thanks Sally I needed that! I'd text him right now, if I had my phone." 

Sally stood up and straightened out her clothes. "What do you mean if I had my phone? Where is it?" Lestrade shrugged, "It's a long story but basically Sherlock has it." Sally froze and slowly looked at Lestrade, her brown eyes wide, "You gave your phone to the freak? Why would you do that?" Greg stiffened at how bad the situation was beginning to sound. "Basically Sherlock is pulling this prank on Myrcroft later on and needed my phone to text him." Sally shook her head and let out a short bitter laugh. "Wait hang on. You're telling me that you gave your phone to a physco path to text your crush? Which by the way, is under your name so Mycroft will think it is you texting him." Lestrade paled, "Well yes but I'm pretty sure he only needed to text him to lure him to my office." Sally frowned, "Pretty sure?" Lestrade forgot to breathe for a second, and allowed air to rush into his lungs. His heart began to pound in his chest, demanding to be let out. "Yes but I'm sure everything will work out, Mycroft will find out it was Sherlock texting in the end." Sally shook her head, "You don't even know what the prank is, right?" Greg sighed in defeat, "Yeah I don't know what it is." Sally cleared her throat, "Well ok, good luck with this all. Let me know how this goes tomorrow. I've got to go fix my makeup now." Lestrade ran his fingers through his grey hair, and prayed that everything would be alright. Taking a few more deep breaths, Greg looked at the time. It was only eleven o'clock, still six hours and thirty minutes to go. Picking up his pen, Lestrade grunted. He already knew that today was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Sally wasn't too much of a b**ch XD Next part coming soon~


	5. April fools!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gets pranked by Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 11pm so I'm sorry if it's not as good as the others... Enjoy!

Visions ran through his mind of all the possible worst-case scenarios of how his date could go with Gregory. His heart began to beat in his throat, and he gripped his umbrella handle, watching his knuckles turn white. "Sir are you alright? You've gone a bit pale." Anthea sat beside him in the limousine, her phone down in her lap as she stared at her boss. Anthea had been a great help to Mycroft; she set reservations and helped pick out the perfect three piece suit for him. Mycroft would be lost without his P.A. Mycroft nodded, but remained more stiff then usual. "Would you like me to go in with you? Once you two come outside, I'll call for another car to take me. Wouldn't want to ride with you on the way to dinner." Anthea grinned at the thought of her sitting in the middle of them, typing away on her phone. Mycroft sagged a bit in relief, "Yes that would be lovely. Thank you." His face still remained twisted, and his hand still held onto his umbrella. "Your going to have a good time, I can tell just by looking at the two of you. Lestrade will be great for you. If you're lucky he may do what he promised." Anthea smirked, she didn't even have to look to know that her bosses face was turning bright red. She could practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. The car soon pulled to a smooth stop in front of the Scotland Yard. "Ready to go sir?" Anthea slid out of the car while Mycroft remained in the limo. She gave him a couple seconds, before asking again, "Sir?" Mycroft jolted and cleared his throat. "Yes, yes." A light pink dusted his cheeks as he got out of the limousine. Anthea smiled and was bursting with excitement. Mycroft straightened his posture, and walked into the place like he owned it. His mask fooled people though, because on the inside Mycroft was having a panic attack.

Once they reached the office door, Mycroft knocked. "Come in." The detective inspector's voice made Mycroft's heart flutter, and Mycroft realized he was actually quite excited to see the silver fox. Slowly walking in, Mycroft frowned and quirked an eyebrow at Lestrade's attire. He was still wearing his work outfit, but then again what did Mycroft expect when he said that he would meet Greg at his work place. Panic began to settle in the pit of his stomach, but he forced it aside. Maybe they would stop by Greg's place so that he could change before they go. Mycroft let out one of his rare smiles, before catching himself and quickly masking it. "Ready to go, Gregory?" Lestrade stood up from his desk, looking puzzled. Greg glanced around the office, before staring directly into Mycroft's, surprisingly warm, blue eyes. "Go? Oh, uh, April Fools?" Greg continued to look around while Mycroft tilted his head. "Yes I guess today is April-" A wave of anxiety drowned the pleasant haze Mycroft had been enjoying moments before.

Mycroft felt his phone buzz in his trouser pocket. Pulling it out, he looked at the text message he had received. It was from Lestrade and it said 'April Fools' Obviously the text had been from Sherlock. This sent his blood curling like fire through his veins, settling low in his stomach. Lestrade pinned him with a startlingly emotional stare, "Are you alright?" Mycroft flung himself back, appalled, as his blood flashed icy in his veins. Mycroft hated being surprised, he liked to know every possible outcome for every situation so that he could be prepared. But this, Mycroft had not been prepared for at all. He felt a strong urge to run far away, or maybe even to cry. This thought shocked Mycroft, he hadn't cried in years. At that moment Sherlock came bursting through the door, his long coat flowing dramatically behind him. "April fools! Ha you should see the look on your face. Man how could you have not seen that one coming?" Mycroft's face grew paler while Anthea's got redder. Anthea blinked the tears out of her eyes, and her fists were clenched down by her sides. She shook with rage and had the strong urge to punch Sherlock right in his sharp cheekbones. But she knew that would be inappropriate for her to do, and put her job on the line. Anthea was no longer able to trust herself to stand in the room without punching or yelling at someone, so she quickly fled. "Um Sherlock," John tried to reach out to grab Sherlock's elbow, but Sherlock moved his arm out of John's hold. Embarrassment began trickling through Mycroft's bloodstream. Thoughts clouded up his mind, making him dizzy. How could he had been so stupid? Why would Lestrade ever randomly hit him up for a date? Who would ever want Mycroft? Mycroft could hear his heart thrumming in his ears, and he desperately wanted to curl himself up into a ball on the floor. Mycroft opened his mouth, but then closed it again. There was a lump in his throat, and his eyes were beginning to burn. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Mycroft turned around and made a beeline for the door.

Sherlock jumped in front of him and blocked his only exit. "Wait you can't just leave! Don't act like you don't know why I'm doing this! High school, remember?" Mycroft put his hands to his face and shook his head. Backing up, he stared directly into Sherlock's eyes. He couldn't bear to look anywhere else, especially not at Lestrade. Mycroft knew that if he looked at Gregory, he would start thinking about how he would never have him and probably start sobbing. There was defiantly something worse than his smiles, and that was his crying. Clearing his throat and sighing, Mycroft stated, "Sherlock I didn't do that." Sherlock let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha yes you did, you admitted it yourself." John held up his hands, "Wait sorry high school? What happened?" Sherlock glared at Mycroft, "It was picture day and Mycroft put red dye in my locker so that when I opened my locker the dye spilled on my suit. Everyone who saw laughed, and the people who didn't were dumb enough to believe that it was blood. I had to take my picture like that, it was dreadful." Mycroft exhaled, "No Victor did it. I just took the blame because I didn't want you to get yourself into another fight. Besides Victor would have own and beat you up horribly, which would have been even more humiliating. I did it because mummy and father said that if you got yourself into one more fight they'd send you off to boarding school." Sherlock stiffened and his mouth widened into a o-shape. "Although I do take credit for Redbeard, which I admit was a cruel prank." Mycroft turned to Dr. Watson and explained, he still couldn't look at Greg, "I hid Redbeard and told Sherlock that Redbeard was gone. Sherlock then proceeded to freak out and I began to feel horribly guilty, so I retrieved Redbeard to him before he could run and tell mummy. He still told mummy anyways. But after going through that, seeing Sherlock hurt and panic, I realized that pranking wasn't fun anymore. Jokes can actually hurt people." Sherlock frowned and realized that Mycroft was right. Sherlock had hoped to feel satisfied after this, maybe even get a few laughs. But he currently felt like vomiting. How had he not known that Mycroft was lying? Of course it was Victor! It all made sense now.

Sherlock turned to John who was frowning, then to Lestrade who actually looked like he was about to puke. "A bit not good then." Sherlock sighed and stared down at his shoes, he hated apologizing. Awkward silence choked the room and soon Mycroft sighed, "Well Sherlock, it's been good being with you. I hope your life goes well without me. John, please keep him safe." Sherlock jumped, "Wait what?" Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Oh please use your deduction skills. I'm not killing myself, I'm no longer associating myself with you." Sherlock scoffed, "Ha, you couldn't do that, you care about me far too much. Besides, who will help you with cases?" Mycroft gave Sherlock a tight lipped smile, "I'll bring them to Detective Inspector Dimmock then. Honestly Sherlock, right now, I just can't deal with you. Your always the one telling me to get a goldfish. When I was actually opening up a little, why would you give me false hope, why... Oh just never mind. Goodbye Sherlock." Mycroft walked out of the office, leaving them all with pained expressions. Sherlock quickly replaced his with irritation. "Well fine I don't need him anyways. Mycroft being out of my life will be the best thing ever. Come on John." Sherlock slammed Greg's phone onto his desk and strutted out of his office. Greg stopped John on the way out. "Wait John what's going on?" John looked toward Sherlock, a worried expression on his face. "Look, just, read the text messages. I've gotta go. I'm sorry." Running after Sherlock, Lestrade slumped into his chair. What was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone cry? Don't worry Mycroft is not mad at Gregory, he's just too embarrassed. He doesn't know if Greg has seen the texts or not.


	6. Talking in person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade decides that it's best to talk to Mycroft in person, not over the phone :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the ending guys! Sorry it took me so long I was on a mission trip in Virginia. I will be posting a sequel called Revenge soon!

Rubbing the palms of his hands across his face, Mycroft sat at the table in front of his laptop. Squinting at the harsh light from his computer, he looked at the time. It was two o'clock in the morning. Right now, sleeping was the last thing Mycroft wanted to do. He hated sleeping, it was the time when there was nothing there to distract him from reality. Normally Mycroft would drown himself in work and just wait until he collapsed from exhaustion. That's exactly what he was doing right now, waiting for himself to crumble. He couldn't bare the thought of going to bed right now, not after how his day had gone. 

Getting up from his chair, Mycroft went to go stand by the window. Wind rattled the trees and lightning crackled in the black sky. Rain drops leaked down Mycroft's window; he glanced underneath the street lamp to try and see the damage the storm had been causing. The only thing he could make out was the water rushing down the roads. Mycroft never feared thunder storms as a child, he actually grew to like them. Something about the roaring in the sky soothed him. It was comforting to know that sometimes nature needed to scream too. The sound of a bell going off made Mycroft jump, and he searched around his room. It sounded like the doorbell, but Mycroft immediately shook that thought out of his head. He must be going crazy, no one would ring the doorbell at two am. Hardly anyone knew where he lived anyways. Making his way back over to the table, Mycroft froze when he heard the bell for the second time. Someone was defiantly ringing the doorbell then. Who would be at his door at two o'clock in the morning? Especially with the storm that was going on. Rushing down the stairs Mycroft switched on the porch light and peeked out the curtain. A hunched figure stood on the other side. The frame was defiantly a mans, and the coat looked familiar. Mycroft couldn't place who it belonged to though. Suddenly, the man glanced up at the door. It was Detective Inspector Lestrade. 

Mycroft's pupils grew small and his blood began to run cold. Should he answer, or just ignore it? The weather was terrible though, and leaving Lestrade out in the cold would be an awful thing to do. Besides, Mycroft just gave himself away by flipping the porch light on. The doorbell rang for a third time, and Mycroft sighed knowing that he would have to answer. Unlocking the door, Mycroft slowly turned the knob. He knew that the earlier they got this situation settled, the better it would all be. Mycroft decided that lying would be the best thing to do. He'll tell Greg everything's fine so that Lestrade won't feel guilty, and that he holds no feelings of affection towards him. 

Opening up the door, the cold wind smacked Mycroft in the face. Mycroft fought the urge to hug himself to keep warm, and desperately wished he had brought his umbrella to hold onto. Deciding to start the conversation that was bound to turn awkward, Mycroft asked, "Detective Inspector, why are you here at such an ungodly hour?" Lestrade stood up straighter, chest heaving and hair disheveled, and gasped out, "I was huh going to huh text but I thought I needed to see you huh see you in person." Resting his hands on his knees, Greg looked down at the ground trying to catch his breath. "Did you run here?" Lestrade nodded, but didn't look up. "How did you get my address?" Greg straightened himself up and pulled his coat around him to fight off the cold. "Sherlock." His breath turned to steam in front of him. "Ah, of course. Come in before you catch a cold. If you haven't already." Stepping out of the doorway, Lestrade walked in. Mycroft shut the door, and cringed at the sight of the water on the floor. 

That didn't go unnoticed by the detective inspector, so he apologized, "Sorry about the mess." Mycroft shook his head and gestured to the coat rack behind him, "It's alright, you can take off your coat." Gregory began to unbutton the jacket while asking, "What are you doing up then?" "Work." Greg let out a short bitter laugh, "Ha know how that is. I assume you're wondering why I'm here, but being a Holmes and all I'm sure you've already deduced it." Staring straight into Mycroft's eyes, Greg stopped fumbling with his coat and continued, "I read the text messages." Mycroft face grew hot and he began to sweat. "Gregory look I'm-" Lestrade held his hand up, "No no, just listen for a minute-" Mycroft interrupted him, "Please I'll get us some tea, you can rest on the couch. I'm sure your freezing, take off your coat." Mycroft was overtired and honestly didn't want to deal with this all right now. He knew he needed to step out and calm down for a second before he continued this conversation. Lestrade threw his wet coat on the floor behind him, startling Mycroft. "Or you can just put it on the floor." Mycroft mumbled, he turned around to walk to the kitchen but a hand on his wrist stopped him. Lestrade turned him around, and brought Mycroft into a hug. Mycroft was pulled into Lestrade's chest and Lestrade wrapped his arms around Mycroft's back. Mycroft immediately stiffed at the physical contact. "I'm so sorry, if I knew what Sherlock was going to do I would have never allowed him to use my phone. I just thought he was going to text you to tell you to come to the Scotland Yard, pretending to be me so that'd you'd defiantly come. I feel so awful, I was going to wait until the morning but I couldn't sleep." Mycroft slowly began to relax into the embrace. It felt nice to be held, Mycroft couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged. By his mother, he supposed. But she was the only one who ever hugged him. "It's alright." Mycroft mumbled into Gregory's chest. "No it's not. I feel awful." Mycroft pulled out of the hug, and looked directly into Greg's guilt filled eyes. "Don't. You didn't know Sherlock's intentions, let me go get some tea." Mycroft fled out of the room and into the kitchen. 

He missed the warmth Greg had provided him, but knew that caring was not an advantage. Greg only felt bad, he pitied him. That's why he hugged him and had been so kind, because he knew that Mycroft, a man who no one believed to have a heart, had decided to love him. Frowning, Mycroft quickly prepared two mugs of tea. Resting his hands on the cold granite table top he stared down at it, waiting until he calmed himself down. Feeling his pulse steady out, he grabbed the two cups of tea. Let's get this over with, was the last thought Mycroft had before walking out into the living room. Sitting a good way away from Greg on the sofa, he handed him his tea. Mycroft wished he had set a fire, but dealt with the steaming beverage currently warming his hands to heat the rest of his body. Greg and Mycroft both held the cup up to their lips, taking a sip at the same time. "Sherlock really is brilliant. He got everything right." Greg took another sip while Mycroft lowered his cup. Trying not to give his hopes up again, Mycroft asked, "About what?" Gregory laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Mycroft had ever heard. His heart began to flutter in his chest. "You know what. The text messages. He didn't get one thing wrong, he even knew about why I liked you. I'll never figure out how he deduced that. So really the joke is on him, because everything he wrote is probably what I would've said." Mycroft rested his mug on the table in front of him, and shook his head, "Gregory you don't need to do this. I'll be alright, you don't have to lie for me." Lestrade reached out, grabbing Mycroft's hand. "You're so daft, Mycroft I like you, a lot. I might even, dare I say it, love you. No, actually yes, I do love you." Mycroft jolted at both the contact and words, "L-love?" Mycroft inwardly cringed at his stuttering, he sounded like an idiot. 

Mycroft felt Greg's hand on his chin, forcing Mycroft to look at him. Mycroft's heart sounded like a train booming down the tracks; he saw lust and kindness swimming in Greg's brown eyes. Gregory leaned in closer, so close that Mycroft could feel Lestrade's warm breath on his lips. The smell of mint and tea flooded into Mycroft's nostrils. Lestrade grinned, "Yes. If you still don't believe me, I know how to prove it." Then Greg crashed his lips against Mycroft's, and led him into a sweet gentle kiss. Mycroft's face was bright red, but at this point he didn't care. He closed his eyes and for once in his life let himself truly relax. He ran his fingers through Greg's wet hair. Greg licked Mycroft's bottom lip, asking for entrance, and Mycroft allowed it. Mycroft let out an embarrassing moan, making his face feel like it was on fire. The kiss ended all too soon, and Mycroft opened his eyes to see Greg smirking. "I think I need more proof." Mycroft whispered, and Greg laughed, kissing Mycroft again. Once the kiss broke off, Lestrade asked, "So what does this mean? Are we dating?" Mycroft smiled, and rested his hand up against his mouth, "Whatever you would like it to mean." Lestrade grinned, "Will you be my boyfriend then?" Mycroft laughed before trying to disguise it as a cough, "Yes. We will have to reschedule our date then." Greg eyebrows furrowed before he smiled, "Of course. You should smile and laugh more often, I like the look on you." Mycroft held his tea mug again, fiddling with the handle. "I don't, but thank you." Lestrade frowned, but before he could say anything, Mycroft stared at him, "Can I ask you to do a favor for me?" Greg nodded, and held Mycroft's hand in his again. "Sure Mycroft, anything for you." Mycroft smiled at this, and stared down at their connected hands. Part of Mycroft was still afraid though, he had never felt this way about anyone before and the feelings were terrifying him because he was loosing control of them. But looking into Greg's warm eyes and gentle smile, Mycroft felt relaxed immediately. Mycroft could defiantly get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Please let me know what you thought! I know it's not the best, and it's probably so crack XD but I had a lot of fun writing this for everyone! :) Stay tuned for "Revenge"!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for deciding to read this! Please let me know if you like it so that I can write more faster :) This is also up on my Instagram (@clueingforlooks221B) so if you have one you should follow me ;)


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